My Ending Felt in a Moment
Life has its own movements
Walking on phantom legs mourning what is not mine
Sleeping suspiciously, sipping from slicky sweet ladel of time.
A sneaking smile, her lover the Nile a moon season never seen again.
His clothing of autumn, tears of spring stopped silently the asp's hungry sing.
At the end what really is what?
Oh if my hypocrisy burn too great and my bitter herbs are too hard to hate,
Then walk me slowly by garden's gate--a glimpse, a look, a wink of moment past.
Chanting a deaf spirit's ear moment in moment, year into year.
Death still arises from wrinkled slumber to rape, to take one last ride.
At my demise.
I stand on borrowed friend's time tears dripping on a fading time said to be mine.
Hearts evil or good enter the darkness of darkness where unfitting souls can rest.
A dog's one nature is softer, surer than riches of a braggart's pomp.
My back feels the damp wall--wondering in twinkle, sleeping in wrinkle, dancing without a tune.
All things in wisdom.
A sonnet so sad a tongue froze in phrases
Never quoting love, hate, hymns or blazes.
Gazing as a fool watching a marriage of inconsistent minutes.
His power, her power, a world crumbling 'neath a carnival token.
Water'd brooks sing dry while wingless angels fly
A poison drips vainly.
Sunset darkness endless time.
Holding at last obscurity's love just mine.